


Of Hardcore Difficulty and Demonic Possession

by TibiDecet



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, Demonic Possession, Dream Smp, Exorcisms, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I am very sorry, Post Festival, Sad times, Tubbo is a ghost, platonically sharing a bed, why is this not a tag this is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TibiDecet/pseuds/TibiDecet
Summary: Fundy has been in this situation before.He knows the signs, he knows what he's supposed to do.He should have acted earlier.[The possessed!Schlatt AU that got into my head and wouldn't leave until I made a really whumpy fic about it]
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Jschlatt, Fundy & Tubbo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 140





	Of Hardcore Difficulty and Demonic Possession

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings, on top of those mentioned in the tags, are:  
> scars, burns, not explicitly body horror but there are some things that a normal body shouldn't be doing, cursing, partial loss of memories, a character mentions not being in control of their own body, mentions of sleep paralysis, nightmares. 
> 
> PLEASE let me know if there are other triggers I should add.

Up until the very last moment, nobody really believes him. 

He doesn't quite become the town's fool - that would require actual citizens, instead of just … spies and traitors and a couple of people still holding onto their positions of power. Everyone grasping to their last strands, hoping they won't be the next to go out with a bang. 

But people start avoiding him. 

Which, fair. Taking care of himself is secondary when he has so much to do, and he's not sure when the last time he slept was. 

But he does have things to do: he has materials to gather, scrolls and tomes to research. People think he's gone mad - with desperation, with grief, with delusions - but he knows he's right. 

Everything must be perfect, and he has to be quick. 

It's not easy, gathering the tools necessary to exorcise the demon possessing Schlatt alone. But he's gotta do it, since Tubbo is gone now. 

He knows what people think, when they see him hiding away in Tubbo's old library to research, an open notebook always next to him, with a stick of graphite waiting to be picked up. 

Tubbo writes to him sometimes, tells him what section he should focus on, or asks him to do things. He never asks him to talk to the others, since he is perfectly aware of their thoughts on the situation, but still. 

Sometimes Tommy is there in the library with them. They never talk. 

But still. After weeks and weeks of research and hard work, it all comes to an end. 

Fundy is ready, he knows he can do this. 

He traps Schlatt, ignores his yells and screams and insults and curses, and performs the ritual - and Tubbo is always there, right there next to him, a cold gust of wind against the side of his right arm, where Fundy keeps Tubbo's mostly ruined and dirty tie wrapped around his wrist. 

Nobody is there except for them, Fundy made sure of it, so nobody is there to see the bright red markings burn on Schlatt's skin, nor the thick black ichor that trickles down his eyes like tears as he lets out an inhuman scream and then- 

Nothing.

Simply silence. 

Fundy takes some tentative steps forward, but never crosses the salt line he placed down as a precaution. 

He sits down, ready to wait - he wants Schlatt to wake up on his own, just to be sure -, and keeps his shoulders straight. His hands are slightly trembling, either with anticipation or a bad mix of too much caffeine and too little sleep, and they keep doing so as the coldness around his wrist increases - Tubbo's holding onto him as much as he's holding onto the hope that it all went right. 

And so they wait, for what seems like an eternity, up until the moment when Schlatt's shoulders shake with a sudden ragged gasp for breath. 

_ He's gone mad with grief, now that Tubbo is gone. _

The horned man coughs harshly, curling up around himself as he's slumped on the ground. He lets out a groan, and Fundy can almost swear he feels a pressure around his wrist as he shakingly sits up.

_ He's not sleeping, he's started talking to himself as if … as if there is somebody there with him, poor kid. _

One hand moves, trembling, to wipe away the muk congealed on his face - there's a vulnerable look in his eyes that makes Fundy ache, but he holds on. He has to wait. 

_ He's saying that  _ who _ got possessed now? He needs some rest, and to move on. _

"Fundy? What happened? What-" Schlatt looks around himself, at the now ruined components and structures he used to perform the ritual, an expression of confusion and horror dawning on his face.

"Fundy what did I  _ do _ ?!" 

_ He's just grasping for straws, he's got to accept that Schlatt is just  _ that _ bad.  _

Fundy grips tightly at his own hands, resting on his lap, itching to run and check up on him, but he needs to be sure, he can't do this again-

"Can you come here?" He asks, his voice trembling, and his vision blurs despite his best efforts. He can almost imagine the confusion on the man's face, but he still sees him struggle to get up - compliance to requests, a good sign. 

_ I feel sorry for him, with Wilbur having gone mad too- _

Fundy watches, shaking, as Schlatt stumbles towards him, and then … effortlessly pass through the lines of protection glyphs he placed for containment. 

And everything - the stress, the anger, the fear, the grief, the sense of loneliness and abandonment - crashes onto him. His shoulders fall as all tension leave him and he lets out a loud sob as tears of relief start falling. 

He hears Schlatt curse, almost panicked, and hears the thump of his knees on the ground as he falls down in front of him and then- two arms circle around him and bring him forward, one hand cradling his head against an ink stained chest while the other grips at his dirty coat. 

"I've got you, don't worry, I'm here-"

_ He just can't seem to find a good parental figure. _

He never leaves Schlatt's side, at first. 

Nobody comments on that, but on the other hand nobody comments on the evident burn scars in the shape of glyphs that cover the older man's body - and that burnt through his suit, so that they had to make him a new one. 

At least the pity stares stop. 

Schlatt appreciates it. It's a lot to take in, after being mentally asleep for about a month, and the news of what happened- 

He prefers not to think about it if he can. 

There's already an empty feeling in his torax, right under where he thinks his pancreas is supposed to be, he doesn't need a broken heart on top of that - especially since Fundy said that feeling's probably never going away. 

But the thing is, it's hard to make sure Fundy's taking care of himself when he's so insistent on following him around and taking care of  _ him _ . 

While he will probably never admit it out loud, it's endearing. Heartwarming. 

It breaks his heart, knowing that he went through all of that alone.

A part of him wants to suffer, to know what he said, how he mistreated them - why Quackity has left -, in a twisted sort of penance for the things that thing did while in his body. But he really doesn't want to bother Fundy with that, it really is not worth it. 

Especially when the man keeps going above and beyond to make sure he's doing alright: following him around, bringing him food, checking his temperature, ensuring that he's warm, that his scars are healing fine. 

Catching him when he stumbles on nothing and almost faceplants on the ground - whenever his muscles forget he's the one in control again. 

Quieting him down when he wakes up from a nightmare, straining against invisible and intangible constraints. 

Tonight is a bit better.

Schlatt does wake up suddenly, eyes opening as a gasp leaves him, but he's not drenched in sweat, nor panting. There's no itching feeling under his skin. 

There is, however, a slight dip in his matress, from where Fundy is hunched up, sitting on a wooden chair, arms supporting his head over the sheets. 

Schlatt's head hits his pillow in exasperation. This dude's going to be the end of him. 

He really didn't sign up for becoming a … supervisor. He's not going to think about that other word. Nope. Not doing that. 

What he is going to do, instead, is ever so slowly get up, so that he doesn't wake him up, and walk around the bed so that he can crouch behind him. 

Fundy jumps a little in his sleep when he puts one arm under his legs and one behind his back, but he seems to tired to do anything but mumble, and he quiets down quickly with a hushed reassurance. The fool has been overworking himself, again. 

Once, it wouldn't have been that hard to pick the man up and move him to a better location, but Schlatt has been having a bit of a hard time regaining his strength after the whole demon deal, so all he knows he can manage to do is lift Fundy for a moment and then let him down on the bed as gently as he can. 

There's a brief moment where Fundy is actually awake, eyes open as he looks around himself - probably disoriented by the sudden shift from a weird unhealthy yoga position to laying on a soft flat surface - and he manages to grab Schlatt's shirt in the process. 

Then, there is a rather awkward moment where Schlatt is stuck, one arm trapped under Fundy's back and unable to lean back because the man's grip is stronger than expected. 

Fundy, thankfully, blinks tiredly and groans, letting go almost instantly to rub at his eyes. Schlatt can just pretend it never happened. 

"What's going on?" Fundy asks, speech slurred with tiredness and voice thick with sleep, moving to sit up a bit.

"Nu-uh, you little shit. You're not allowed to fuck up your spine and then whine about it. Go back to sleep." Schlatt rebutts as he moves the sheets so that Fundy is covered, then gets back on the bed. 

The younger man lets out a little tired snort, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation - which is funny, because Schlatt is the only one who has a right to be exasperated at the moment. 

"Whatever, dad- I mean. Shit. Fuck. Shut up. I didn't say anything. What?" 

Schlatt lets himself bask in the warmth that fills his chest; he can just think about what he has, what he can do with the people he has on his side and the time he's been given. He can feel himself chuckling and Fundy's head gently hit against the side of his arm in a mock facepalm. 

He moves his arm around, so that he can bring Fundy in a half-hug and rest his hand on top of his head - he's not feeling that sleepy at the moment, despite the general tiredness, so maybe he can just enjoy the moment. Let himself, dare he say it, be a bit vulnerable for some time. 

It's not like anyone can come in, the doors are locked. 

"Whatever you say. I didn't hear a thing, kid." He comments with a smile, gloating at the fact that Fundy instantly groans and wraps an arm around him in order to better hide his face in awkwardness. 

"You are literally the worst." Fundy laments.

But then again, he does fall asleep curled up against him, so maybe he's not all that bad. 


End file.
